


Die Another Day

by CCA03



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brothers, Drunk Dean Winchester, Emotions, F/M, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Sam Winchester, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:41:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27551713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CCA03/pseuds/CCA03
Summary: When hunters start to disappear and show up weeks later dead with various degrees of injuries on them but no explanation, Sam and Dean begin to investigate.  Will the boys figure out who is doing this and why before one of them becomes the next target?
Comments: 5
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters. I'm just borrowing them for a story…I'll put them back the way I found them, for the most part. 
> 
> Warnings:….probably going to be some violence…lots and lots of violence….the more, the merrier. Also, I apologize if you see any mistakes. I tried my best! I sent it through grammarly.com, but I am a mere mortal trying to find their own mistakes, so hopefully, they are not to god awful it changes the flow. This story is slightly different from my regular writing style; I'm jumping around into the future and then jumping back into the present; hopefully, it makes sense! 
> 
> Author Notes: I've always wanted to write this story always loved the idea. Initially, I was going to try and write this story into a Star Wars FanFic. But, for whatever reason, I could never get it off the ground, but I wrote some out and left it alone. Well, then…the fanfic bug FINALLY truly bit me for SPN, and plus an episode REALLY got my head going. Thus, how this story turned SPN. I haven't read much SPN for some reason; as much as I love the series, I never got into the reading or writing aspect of the fandom…weird, huh? (Not that you cared, are you still even reading this?? Why just skip to the story you know you want to.) I swear so far, the most challenging part about writing this story was trying to figure out where I wanted to place this damn story and what season. I kept going back and forth, back and forth. I was half tempted to do it at the beginning of the series, but because of what I wanted to do, they needed to be a little bit older, plus they have more experience and baggage that goes along with them, more stuff to write about! 
> 
> Timeline – Trying my best to stay close to the series's timeline, but if I do jump around, hopefully, it's not too noticeable. It will be around Season 8 timeline. Dean has escaped purgatory, and Sam and Dean have found the men of letters bunker. Sam has not started the trails yet, and I'm still deciding if I want to have Cas under Naomi's control. Not sure about that one yet. Hopefully, I can decide a few chapters in. I'm sure you'd like to see the angel. I'm not so sure if I am confident in writing him yet. Never attempted to write Cas yet…I don't know....what do you think hmmm (puts a finger to chin and looks up like the emoji) 
> 
> P.S. Thanks for some fantastic feedback on Arbitrium. It indeed fed my muse, who is a hungry biatch. So thank you from the bottom of my heart!

CHAPTER 1

One can say a lot about an individual's hands just by looking at them. Soft hands with no scars or scratches, delicate as a newborn baby's behind one would assume, they were either a regular civilian that sits behind a desk all day. Then you had the other half that lived a much harder life. Hands of a warrior, a fighter, a survivalist that would do anything to see the next day. A hunter's hands. Cuts that would heal over time but leave a scar. A scar that over a few beers would be talked about, but even if the mark slowly disappeared over time, the trauma of receiving one mutilation to the skin would remain with that individual. 

Then there was the blood. It was washed away over time, down the drain, never to be seen again. Yet, to someone who had dealt death many times over, the blood never was truly gone. It would always be visible to one's psyche. 

He stared at his hands, getting lost in his thoughts. 'The hands of a warrior, a Soldier. Of a battle-hardened fighter that refused to lay down and die. No, that was wrong. It was hands that brought death and destruction. Superior or monsters depending on how one looked at them, yet were still beings that did not want to die, but it was him or them, and he decided to choose himself. He was a killer. He had hands of a killer.' Even though every fiber in his body detested the slaying, it was as though somewhere deep within the very essence of his core instinct would set in. Muscle reaction. As though he trained for years for every scenario. Trained to kill or be killed. Die now or die another day. The choice was effortless. Of course, he chose to live. To carry on and fight for an ending that he didn't know the outcome. 

Yet he never lost faith or hope that somebody was looking for him even though he could not remember who "they are or were." It was silly to think about someone going to come and rescue him when the memory was not even there. Yet on his bad days, the stupid thought would come to him at random parts of the day. Sometimes it would be a little quiet thought nudging him, caressing like a tender lover. Other times when he felt like he was sinking into a dark madness, he would hold onto it as a child holds onto their mother. But every time he would talk himself up, there would be something in the back of his mind, "wouldn't they have found him by now?" They would not leave you in this nightmare. Maybe there is no one for you. Perhaps, you are truly alone. 

Noise in the corridor steered him away from his thoughts. Feelings that came every single day since waking up in this hell hole. 

Every time they came to get him, the ugly monster would start playing games in his head and questioning everything about himself and his existence. Who was he? He still recalled the day he woke up and had no idea who he was. He did not want to re-experience that memory. Then again, it was not like he had many to relive. Coming back to his hands, maybe he was a criminal, and this was his payback? Perhaps he was here to repent for his crimes that he had committed? It would explain so many things. He noticed a few things that made him think so. It was the little things that he caught with them that made him question his history. Such as how they always took great precautions when moving him from in and out of his cell. He could still feel great uneasiness in the guards as they handled him almost at arm's length. As though at any second he would be able to take them all on and escape this place he now calls home. 

His train of thought was interrupted by the rise in temperature. It comes on like an itch, as the smell of humidity sitting in the air clinging to everything, making him shift on the next to nothing mattress. It was always so slow at first. It would crawl into his senses as he lay there and waited. It would only be in a matter of time before they came and collected him. Every time he started to feel the heat index raise, he would only be a matter of time before voices and footsteps soon followed to come to claim their prize. Just as they came to collect him for the hundredth time, a little dark voice in his head would start telling him to give in. Let go. Be angry; release everything. Maybe today would be the day he would die, ending his suffering and be liberated from this ridiculous time loop of hell. As a bead of sweat began trickling down his forehead, he heard the footsteps getting closer and stopped in front of his cell. He sent a prayer to some absent deity, praying for a quick and silent death. He was tired of dancing with the devil. Then again, he was never that lucky. The door swung open with the heaviness, and he looked at his captors with defiance that he had somewhere deep within, to fight against this even though it would be pointless, and nothing would come out of it. 

(Few Hours Later)

The very sound of his ragged breathing filled the sound of his room. It was more than likely a broken rib. He was lucky it hadn't punctured his lung yet. Then again, maybe if he fell just right or got hit just right, it would end it all for him. However, as he laid there suffering and in pain, he realized once again, today was not his day to die. He was shocked; they even bothered to secure him to the bed; it was not like he had the energy or ability to move on his own accord. If the door were open for him to escape, he would not get up and walk out; right now, he was just in too much pain. Closing his eyes once more, trying to find some way to get comfortable to find some release from the pain, he silently wished again, 'please hurry.' He knew no human could not keep this going, and deep down, he wasn't sure how much longer he would keep surviving. 

(Months Prior)

Jim Davis could not believe of all the days he had been driving across the country that now his vehicle would break down; it had to be right outside of Sioux Falls, South Dakota. He thought 'at least he'd pretty much made it to his destination before his car decided to take a crap on him.' His cell was not getting any service, and the nightly air was biting into him, his jacket not made for this type of weather. He crossed his arms and walked faster. He hoped to catch another person down the desolate road, but it seemed he picked the worst way to go, "Thank you, Google Maps." Jim said under his breath. He then heard a vehicle coming from behind. Turning around quickly but wincing at the headlights, Jim began waving his arms about trying to get the car to stop or at least get the driver's attention before they blew past him. Still, they just kept driving, passing him without even looking like they were going to stop. That is until the car suddenly came to a stop on the bridge a few hundred feet away. He could see the outline of individuals getting out of the vehicle and popping the trunk, the backlights of the car illuminating them. Jim's continued walking but slowed down his pace to a few steps every second, unsure what these people were doing, and not sure if he wanted to continue getting closer, and then, they finally took notice of him. Then again, it's not like they didn't just pass him a few seconds ago and knew he was there. He saw them heave something over the bridge, and even from where Jim was, he could hear something hitting the water below. 

"HEY!" Jim thought maybe it was an animal or some illegal dumping, which he never could stand by idly and watch; he hated assholes like that in the world. The people seemed not to care didn't even look behind as they slammed the trunk down and jumped back in the mid-size car, pulling away with fast acceleration. Jim took off into a dead sprint to get to the bridge, fearing what they may have thrown over could use or need his help. He was almost entirely out of breath by the time he reached the railing to glance over. Jim could barely make out what it was, for there was no moon to give him some lighting and visibility, not to mention the street light barely penetrated the darkness below the bridge. Turning, he saw an embankment and ran towards it. 

Jim found his feet unsteady on the uneven slope as he tried to move as fast as he could without tripping or falling. When he found himself slipping and almost going headfirst, instinct took over quickly, letting himself drop and land on his back. He really did not want to break his neck. Who the hell would find him out here? Laying there for a second to catch his breath and bearing, he then scrambled back up and was much more careful going down the hill. He felt the stream as the water hit his shoes and his feet became submerged, but it would not stop him from reaching his objective and getting to the spot of the discarded items that the unknown assailants had thrown over in the darkest of nights. 

As he got closer, he realized that it wasn't a dog or even a box of kittens that Jim initially thought it might be because he had seen enough in the news to know people are sick and would do such a thing. No, this thing was the shape of a human being. With no moon to light his way, he dug his phone out of his pocket, his hands shaking with adrenaline as he put on the flashlight. He turned the person over. He instantly turned around and started throwing up his entire meal from that day. 

(Few Miles Down the Road)

Sheriff Jody Mills was having a boring night. Not that she was complaining or wanting action; she just sometimes hated when nights were so slow; it made her nights seem so much longer than it needed to be. Jody tried to hold back a yawn that was trying so desperately to come up. She blinked her eyes hard. Looking down for a second, her phone captured her attention as it came alive with a text message. She looked back up, and she let out a surprised cry. A man was trying to wave her down and practically standing in the middle of the road. She had to swerve to miss him and slam on the breaks. 'Smart Jody. You're an officer of the law, and you just got distracted by your cellphone. Great role model there.' 

Before she could even get out of the vehicle or see where the guy was, he was already at her window banging on it. She rolled down her window just enough where she could talk to the person but not enough for him to reach through and try and do something stupid. She didn't even get a chance to ask what the issue was.

"You have to see this…I….uhh yeah, I found a body." The man said the words but sounded either in shock or not believing his own words of what he was telling Jody. 

"Okay, where?" 

Few minutes down the street, the man started hitting the dashboard. "Here, stop, stop, stop, stop." He said quickly. He didn't even wait for her to put it in the park before he was hopping out. He ran over to the bridge and pointed with his finger urging her to see what he had seen only minutes ago. 

"Down there." 

Jody got out of her vehicle and walked over the edge, and beamed her flashlight down. She could see the shape of a human form. "Okay, you hope in my vehicle get yourself warm. I'll call it in." 

"Dispatch." 

She started making her way down the embankment as she called it in. Dispatch responded to her immediately, letting her know her back up, and support was on the way. She was able to make her way down faster than Jim had; using her streamlight stringer flashlight that gave her excellent visibility, she was able to see a lot more than the civilian saw with his phone. She had a strong stomach, but even she felt her dinner trying to come up. 

"God Tony, what did they do you?" 

It was right then and there that Jody Mills kicked herself for even thinking about wanting a boring night. 

(Lebanon, Kansas)

Sam Winchester had his nose buried in another book. Ever since they had found the bunker of men of letters, Sam could not stop reading every single book he could get his hands on. It seemed every time Dean would find Sam, he either was sitting at the table with a new book or falling asleep with one by his side. 'Probably sniffs the damn things when he first opens them, nerd.' Him on the other hand, Dean was just happy to have a home finally. Somewhere they could come after a bad hunt, they could relax and hide. To be able to feel safe that no one would find them when they were at their weakest, where they could regroup and get ready for the next hunt. 

"What book you smelling now?" Dean asked as he walked in to find his brother, surprise surprise reading another book. 

Sam glanced up and gave Dean a look, practically rolling his eyes and ignoring the comment. "So far, nothing." 

Dean was about to respond when Sam's cellphone began ringing, the caller I.D. clearly stating Jody Mills, Sam picked up, "Hey Jody…no….that's terrible. Yeah, will come right away," Dean staring, wanting to know what case they were about to work. Hanging up the phone, Sam shut the book and stood up. 

"Remember that vampire nest we took care of up in northern Michigan?" 

Dean's eyes shooting up to the left and then back at Sam as he recalled that hunting experience. "Vaguely," Then again, they were so many it was hard to remember which one Sam was talking about and referring to at the moment. 

"You wanted to go to Mackinaw Island, but when you realized you had to leave the car, you got pissed….anyways we ran into Tony who helped us." 

Dean nodding now to Sam, remembering who Tony was, "yeah…Garth size, but not nearly as chummy and wanting so many damn hugs. Yeah, good guy." 

"Yes, that Tony…well apparently Tony was found dead and thrown over a bridge in South Dakota." 

Dean without missing a beat. "I'll go get my stuff. Meet you at the car in twenty minutes?" 

(Back in Sioux Falls, South Dakota)

She looked at her phone and put it back in her pocket. She was kind of glad she had called Sam instead of Dean. Not that she thinks Dean wouldn't want to answer the phone or come if asked too. Just sometimes, out of the two brothers, Sam was the easier of the two to talk to at times. Not to mention this was going to be the first time they had seen each other after Bobby Singer's death. For all three of them, it was going to be a stark reminder of this fact. 

They all missed Bobby. Though she missed him deeply, she could only imagine what the boys were going through. This man was there for them; some would even say better than their own flesh and blood father. She would never say or think John Winchester was not a good man or father, but he raised the boys to live and fight and survive. That was no way to grow up, even if it made them the best hunters in the world. 

She could imagine how they both would be and react to returning to the area, especially Dean Winchester, the elder of the two. Out of the two boys, Sam was probably the most adjusted to his feelings and could admit when something was bugging him. Dean just tried to suppress it and put on a face. It's what a good soldier does. Keep pressing it down until it just boils over into either a very unhealthy unchecked rage, or it comes out in other destructive ways. Then again, maybe Jody was overthinking it as a woman would always do, and they both will be just fine. 'Why don't I believe that,' she thought. She heard the sirens in the far distance getting closer to their location. Her back up had arrived. 

"Time to great the calvary." 

(Impala)

The first few hours in the vehicle were silent. Neither brother wanted to talk off in their own world, lost in their thoughts and many demons within their minds. Sam caught a glance at the road sign as they passed it and looked at the time. They were only about an hour out, and for whatever reason, he could not shake the energy in the car and wanting to get it off his chest before they entered Sioux Falls, South Dakota. 

"Dean," clearing his throat. Sam knew this was not going to go well, but still, Sam wanted to attempt the subject with his brother at least. Sam could no longer take it within his mind without venting about it. He watched as his brother glanced over at the mention of his name and then back to the road. Sam took that as a 'proceed with what you want to talk about.' 

"You know," Sam found himself clearing his throat again and trying to find the words but finding it harder and harder to speak them, "it's been a while since we visited Jody and been back up there." 

"Sam," Dean's eyes leaving the road for a second again and glaring at Sam, then back to the road, "I know what you are about to say. Don't. You want to talk about it, and I don't. Save it for Jody." 

Dean wasted no time turning up the music, and Sam could distinctively feel Dean pushing the Impala harder, picking up speed. Sam gave up quickly and looked out the window. 'That went over well,' he thought. 

Glancing over at Sam, Dean saw the emotion written plainly across Sam's face. Dean knew Sam wanted to talk about his feelings about the idea they hadn't come back since Bobby's death. Ever since Bobby died and moved on, they hadn't talked about the man. They hadn't had a heart to heart for a while. Not to mention right after Bobby's death, Dean disappeared into purgatory, and the indisputable fact Sam didn't come looking for him. A lot was stewing between the two Winchester brothers, and unfortunately, both of them had suppressed Bobby's death. Now coming back to the state where Bobby resided when he was alive, where they would run and hide when they were wounded or just needed to relax and take a breather. It was opening a whole can of emotions neither brother was ready for. 

In a lot of respects, it was like coming home. Yet it didn't feel like home anymore with the passing of Bobby. Just felt like a distant memory. 'No,' Dean thought. 'If he didn't think about it, or put it at the back of his mind, then well Bobby was alive and well just off on a hunt. Yeah, because that was healthy.' Yet, for Dean, it worked, and it would continue to work until it wouldn't. Once that was no longer effective, Dean would find another route to try and suppress how he truly felt. 

'Feelings, who needs them?' Dean thought as he continued to push the vehicle towards South Dakota. 

TBC…

Love to hear from you. Feedback always feeds the muse! 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is a bit of a grump

Chapter 2

The boys pulled into the motel almost 0100 in the morning. Both of them beat from the five-hour road trip and knew they would have an early start. The sun was only a few hours from popping its head above the horizon. Neither Sam nor Dean felt like talking to one another as they got ready for sleep, doing their nightly routine. Laying down first in the bed, Dean made sure to have his back to Sam's bed so that way he would not have to look at his younger brother. Sam feeling rather annoyed by the dismissal of his older brother, turned his back to Dean once he finally laid down. However, as both pretended to fall asleep, neither brother could as they both had things weighing on their minds heavily. 

A few hours later, Sam could hear his brother snoring softly. For whatever reason, Sam could not get his body to fall asleep. Instead of getting frustrated, just lying there and trying to will his body to dream world, Sam got up and decided to leave the motel for a few hours, suddenly feeling somewhat claustrophobic in the small room. 

Dean never heard the door to their hotel room opening and then closing. It wasn't until the door opened up that Dean's head popped up from his pillow, his hand distinctively under the pillow, reaching for his weapon. That's until Dean saw Sam carrying two coffee's in hand and already dressed in his suit that Dean removed his hand from underneath the pillow. Squinting his eyes at the intrusion of the sunlight that came into their room as Sam opened the windows to get Dean up. 

"God, what time is it?" Dean closed his eyes, dropping his whole body back, allowing himself to relax again. 

"Early, come on, Jody hasn't even gone to sleep yet. She's waiting for us." 

Sam stared at his brother as his brother's eyes closed again and dropping his head back down, pulling the blanket so it was covering his face and protecting him from the sun. Knowing his brother all too well, he knew Dean was on his way back to dreamworld and would fall back asleep. Grabbing the blankets off Dean, bringing them to the floor, he heard a soft "bitch," come from his brother's lips. Sam then placed the coffee next to Dean's nightstand. 

Dean started grumbling at Sam and giving him a death glare as he grabbed the coffee and stumbled into the bathroom as he slowly got up and moving. The door slammed, and Sam tried not to roll his eyes at his brother's sunny disposition in the morning. Then again, this was a regular routine for both. Sam was the early bird, and Dean was the night owl. Two complete opposites. On rare occasions such as this, when Dean was at his finest moments of being woken up, Sam wondered how in the hell they have made it all these years between them. The two could be such polar opposites of one another, and mornings like this, it showed. In a few hours though, Dean would be his usual grumpy self, Sam just hoped he wouldn't take his morning attitude with him to meet Jody Mills, but he highly doubted that. 

(Sioux Falls, South Dakota Coroner Office)

Jody Mills leaned against the squad car with her hands in her pockets as she tried to stifle another yawn. All she wanted right now was to call it a day and get some much-needed sleep. Her bed was calling her name right now, and it was saying very soothing things to her, yet here she was standing, waiting for the notorious Winchester brothers. At the end of the day, the job came; first, sleep came last. When she stopped another yawn from trying to escape, she was beyond thankful to hear the sound of the 1967 Chevy Impala rumbling up to her location. An automatic smile came across her face as the boys pulled up and got out. 

"Hey, Jody." Sam called over. He was the first to walk up and hug her. Dean waited his turn and then gave her a small hug and said the same as his younger sibling. 

"Glad you boys could make it here so quickly." 

"Well, we would have been here sooner, but you know Sammy needs his rabbit food for the road." Sam rolled his eyes at his brother's comment and glanced at him. Dean's eyebrows shot up into a 'what,' then quickly, his face turned to 'you know I'm right.' Jody just smiled at the two and studying both. Sam had a look on his face, wearing his emotions on his sleeve, and there was something behind his eyes. Dean, on the other hand, just had a blank stare. Like he was already bored with this conversation and wanted to move on from it. Not wanting to keep Sam or Dean waiting, she nodded her head for the boys to follow her. 

"Follow me, gentlemen." 

(Autopsy Room) 

All three were looking at the body of Tony McNeal, who was currently lying on the cold metal table as Jody was running down the report speaking to the brothers. "So, our friend here was thrown over the bridge. The witness didn't get an ID, or the plates just said looked like a regular vehicle pulled him out of the back of the trunk and threw him over. Witness said he yelled at the suspects, but they sped off. He called it in after finding Tony."

Both Winchesters began studying the body, checking for visible evidence that could have been left behind by the very people or thing that had taken his life from him. Trying to find something that regular civilians would miss, and only those in the world of hunting would discover and use to possibly hunt down and track those that killed him. 

Sam was looking at Tony's knuckles. "Look at this, he put up a fight, but more than once." Dean was able to see what Sam was looking at it. On Tony's hands were evidence of a brutal fight. His knuckles were bloody and scarred over. One did not have to have a degree to see there were fingers either broken or dislocated from slamming them into something hard. What Dean and Sam noticed was the apparent reopened wounds. They had not had a chance to heal before they were ripped open again. 

When they started making their way from the hands to the chest area, it was an ugly story of severe healing injuries to many contusions that made his chest colorful in bruises. 

"What did the autopsy say?" Sam asking Jody. 

Jody looking down at the metal clipboard in her hand, "says he had multiple fractures in his ribs, to his leg, down to his hands. There isn't a part of Tony's body that doesn't have some damage to it."

"What did they list for the cause of death?" Dean asked, still looking over the body, trying to find some clue, but there was not much to go off of when the victim could no longer speak. The only thing they could both conclude just by glancing over the body, someone had it out for Tony. But why? That was the million-dollar question. 

"They couldn't tell if it was the blunt force trauma to the side of his head or the crushed windpipe. It looks like somebody strangled him to death." 

Dean was looking at the wounds closer. The man looked like he had been in a bar fight. The various injuries matched some that Dean had received over the years. "His face looks beat to hell like either he was tortured or went a few rounds with Mike Tyson. Seriously who would have such a vendetta against Tony? Maybe we need to call up some hunters to see if they know anything? You know if he any had any partners that worked with him last, maybe saw him?" His eyes were looking up to Sam and then to Jody. They all had an agreement they had some work cut out for them. Try and find out who and what killed Tony. 

Jody and the boys walked out of the corner's office, both walking to their respective vehicles. Turning back at them, she looked at Sam and then to Dean. "I do appreciate you guys coming up here. I know it's not a lot to go off, but hopefully, we can figure out who did this to him. Maybe give him a hunter's funeral." 

"You know us; we won't stop till we figure this out." Dean gave his promise and went to get into his car. Sam turned slightly and waited till Dean was out of earshot, in which Jody spoke up. "He's a little off today." 

"Yeah…he says he's fine, but if anything." Sam just finished it there, not elaborating anymore. He didn't have to speak anymore on it, knowing Jody would put it together. She gave a knowing smile and patted his shoulder. He turned back around and got into the passenger side of the Impala. Jody gave a little hand wave as they drove off. 

She got into her cruiser. Thinking to herself, 'time for sleep.' 

(Local Diner)

"Thanks, no, definitely. If I hear anything, you will be the first person I call. No, thank you again." Sam hung up the phone and glanced at Dean, who was stuffing his face into a burger and looking like he was in heaven. 

"So that was one of Tony's friends that hunted with him in the past. Said he hadn't heard from Tony in quite some time, actually, not for a few months, to be precise. Guess the last thing he heard was Tony was out hunting some vampires and never checked back in. Judging by some of the wounds we saw today would match up to a few months." 

"Damn," Dean said with a mouth full of burger. Gulping down the rest of his food and slugging back the beer, he cleared his hands of any remaining particles of food. "So really, we got nothing, just a dead hunter." 

"Maybe we could talk to the witness?" Sam suggested. 

"Ah yes, because Jody's didn't tell us already that the witness didn't see jack. We don't have jack." 

Sam stared at his brother in disbelief. He was trying to figure out what wild hair had climbed up Dean's ass. Generally, by now, after Dean had food in his stomach, he was no longer act as though he was an anorexic cheerleader that never got fed, but no Dean was still carrying a mood with him. 

"What is with you?" Why are you so on edge? Is it because we are close to.." Dean cut off Sam's sentence before he could finish his sentence and train of thought. 

"Don't say it. No, I just don't," trying to find the words but coming empty-handed, "never mind." Dean was looking for the waitress, flagging her down with a smile and a small wave of his hand. His face rested as he looked back at Sam. Knowing this was about to turn into a fight if he didn't get out of there. Sam knew exactly what Dean was doing. He was in fight or flight mode, and right now, Dean was in his run to the hills mode before the fight escalated. But, Sam wanted to poke the bear and just keep stirring the pot. 

"Well, I'll say it. We are close to Bobby's old house, and I thought we could go…" again Dean cut off his brother. 

"Going to stop you right there." Dean stood up. His wooden chair made a distinct sound throughout the diner as every customer could hear it. The sound of wood hitting wood was like nails on a chuck board. Dean dropped the money and tip on the table, estimating the bill no longer willing to hold off on the waitress to bring their receipt. Sam sat there and noticed a few people were looking at them. Guess they had gotten a little louder than either one had anticipated. Sam gave a soft nod and smile and got up and hurried after Dean before he left him at the diner. 

It took everything in Dean Winchester not to leave his brother right there with screeching tires and him having to find his way back to the motel. Yet, with a hunter already dead in the town, the last thing he needed was to speed off and leave his brother exposed and vulnerable. Nevertheless, the urge to make tires scream on the pavement was driving him. Dean hated it when his brother kept trying to get him to talk about his feelings. They have had known each other their entire life, and Dean would think Sam by now would learn and understand better than to keep pushing him. Dean desperately wanted to drop his mood, but the minute they crossed the state line, he found his attitude getting worse by the hour. Dean opened the car's door a little harder than preferred, slammed it shut, and turned on the engine. He threw the shifter into drive, but his brother had already caught up and got into the passenger side of the vehicle. 

"Really Dean?" Sam said in disbelief, convinced his brother would leave him right there in the parking lot of the diner. Dean said nothing as he made the back tires spin before coming off the break and letting it peel out of the parking lot. 

Neither brother caught the guy running out and watching as they sped off. The man dug into his pocket and grabbed his cellphone. Few seconds somebody else answered on the other end, "We may have to move. No, will you listen! The damn Winchesters are in town." 

(Jody Mills's House)

Jody felt utter bliss as she had finally changed out of her uniform, took a much-needed shower, and climbed into her bed to finally get some sleep. She let out a deep sigh as her body began to feel the pull to oblivion slowly. Her eyes snapped open. 'What had waken her? What had the audacity to arouse her from her much needed rest?' The sound of her phone vibrating next to her nightstand, the ringtone played loudly next to her ear. She thought about not answering it. 'No, no, no they could ask someone else to handle it. She was off right now recovering. She needed her damn beauty sleep.' The phone started ringing a second time. Jody knew she should answer it, and she now had this inner fight within her. The phone stopped ringing. 'Maybe it was a wrong number.' The third consecutive ring, though, she knew she had to answer it. 

'Dammit.' She turned over and grabbed the duty phone, sitting up onto her elbow. "Sheriff Mills." She responded with professionalism in her voice when all she wanted to do was throw the damn thing dramatically against the wall and tell them to call her back in twelve hours. "You're kidding me. No, no, I'll be right there." She hung up the phone and fell onto her back. She closed her eyes. She was going to need the strongest coffee in the world for this day. She popped one eye open and grabbed her cellphone and called Sam Winchester. 

"Hey, Sam. Another two more bodies were found. You two are not going to believe it. Yeah, same damn place. I'll pin the location. Give me a few, and I'll meet you there." 

(Impala)

"That was Jody. I guess two more bodies were found." Sam spoke. The two brothers had not said anything since they had left the diner. Dean was headed back towards where they were staying to drop Sam off and go for a drive. It was the only way he could get whatever was wanting to bubble up inside of him out. 

Sam looked over at his brother a few times. He was expecting an answer or at least a grunt of indication that Dean was listening to him. Yet Dean continued to ride in silence. Just keeping quiet and staring at what was ahead of him on the road. 

"Are you going to ignore me like a twelve-year-old Dean? Or we going to talk about this like two adults?" 

It was as though the harder Sam pushed for Dean to talk to him, the more formidable Dean dug his heels in and wanted to do the exact opposite. Sam wanted to scream or have Dean stop the car so he could get this frustration out. Yet, Dean continued to drive. Sam wondered how long Dean would go on in silence. Yet, nothing. He was just making his way down the road towards their motel. Sam was wondering if Dean was about to drop him off where they were staying and leave him to finish the case on his own. It would not be the first time the brothers had split up. When it seemed Dean would revert to being more like their father, just pushing Sam away as far as he could, Dean finally let out a long sigh. Defeat. Dean had given in. 

"When I'm ready to talk, Sammy," There it was. Sammy. When he called him that name, it meant whatever was brewing in Dean's mind had calmed down enough. The anger that always helped drive Dean submerged just enough for Sam to see the old Dean reappear. Dean, the eldest brother who would not want to leave his baby brother by himself. Not when there was something out there that had already killed one hunter and now with two additional bodies. No, they worked better as a team. Not split up. Dean continued, "I'll talk. Till then, let's just work this case. Or is that too much to ask for?" 

Sam looked over at his brother. He'd accept this pathetic excuse for an apology from Dean, for now, and even allow Dean to get away with his attitude. Yet, at one point or another, these two were going to have to talk. If that meant him tying up his brother, then Sam would do whatever it took to get his brother to open up. Dean bottling up his emotion was always a volcano waiting to explode, and quite frankly, Sam didn't want to deal with it at the moment. Nodding his head, Sam agreed to the terms for now. The rest of the drive was ridden in silence after Sam gave Dean the directions to the new bodies recently discovered. 

(Thirty Minutes Later)

Dean and Sam Winchester pulled up to the scene where numerous police vehicles were parked and blocking the road from further entry. They saw Jody off in the distance, talking to another colleague. Showing their fake badges to the police officer standing guard, they walked up to her. The other officer saw it was his cue to leave and walked away, leaving the Winchesters with Jody.

"Yeah, so the bodies should be down here." Jody took the lead, and both Sam and Dean followed close behind as they crossed the bridge. Dean took a second to look over the bridge to see how high it was. He then looked up and saw how far Sam and Jody got away and played catch up. 

Both men made it down the embankment with ease as they reached the two bodies lying in the creek. Sam or Dean had to say a word to one another as each took a body. Dean lifted the tarp that draped over one of the corpses. When he lifted the sheet, he found the body was decapitated. Her head was near her feet. Taking in the rest of her body, he saw similar marks on her body that Tony had. She looked like she went through the wringer. Yet it was very distinct she had bruises on her wrists along with on her ankles. She had been restrained. Then something in Dean, maybe instinct or just plain curiosity he popped open her mouth and proceed to make her fang come out. He stood up and turned around as he spoke. 

"She has fangs. She's a vamp." 

"Yeah, this one too." Sam said as he stood up from his crouched position over the body he had been investigating. He looked over at Dean, who in return looked over at him. 

Dean stepped over to where Sam was, and they both looked at the male carcass, who also had his head decapitated from his body as well. Just giving a glance over, Dean could see the male had almost similar if not identical injuries that the female vampire had as well. 

"Okay, so we have one dead hunter and two headless vamps. I don't know about you, but I'm stumped." Dean looking up at Sam and Jody, who also had come to the same conclusion as him.

**TBC…**


	3. Chapter 3

(Future)

He didn't remember passing out. His eyes felt like led and could barely open them, yet he found the inner strength to crack them just enough to notice the surroundings had changed entirely once again what seemed for the hundredth time. He could tell they were in a different climate due to the cold chilly air coming through the door. Not like his captors gave him warm clothes and a blanket and heater. He wanted to move his body to try and conserve some energy to try and move into a much more comfortable position onto his side so he could try and warm his body up. However, the power to do that was not there. If he even moved a muscle, his ribs screamed in pain. He was pretty positive that one was broken, if not more. When the sharp, throbbing sensation would finally subside enough for him to catch his breath, he could feel other injuries slowly making themselves known and starting to creep into his senses. 

His thoughts drifted away as the sound of footsteps could be heard walking towards the door. The heavy locks could be heard being unbolted as then the thick door swung open. He felt the need to sit up, but his body protested, and even if he wanted to, he couldn't. He could see the individual's legs as they moved slowly and closer, but just far enough to be out of striking distance never could be too careful. 

"I thought that last one you'd be a goner, but my prize horse never fails me, does it?" The man standing in front of him waited for a response, some smart ass comeback. Yet he was just out of things to say. He just had no energy for it. 

"You are usually so much chattier, not today? That's okay." The individual smiled with a sickly smirk that he wanted to smack the ever-living shit out of. 

Even if he wanted to do something about the man standing over gloating over him, he would not be able to bound to his bed as he was or as close to a bed as he got. He just decided to give him the best death glare he could give him but probably wasn't much judging how he felt at the moment. 

"Awww, that's the Winchester I know. Now, don't go dying on me just yet. You are making me a SHIT ton of money." 

Nothing else was spoken between the two men as the man left, leaving the bound Winchester who had nothing but his thoughts to keep him company. 

(Present Day)

"So let me get this straight," Dean trying to clear his head, putting his two fingers into his closed eyes, turning on his heel away from Sam and Jody, then turned back around. Dropping his hand and reopening his eyes, "two vamps get thrown off the same bridge that Tony was, and nobody witnesses it? What douche uses the same dumping ground? How the hell did nobody see this?" Emphasizing what he said, throwing his arms out sideways and then letting them hit his legs. 

"I've never seen or heard of anything like this, and I know I haven't been in the game nearly as long as you two, but hell, I haven't even seen humans be so ballsy," Jody said, looking down at the two white sheets covering the dead vampire's bodies. 

"No, this is weird even for us. I mean…what monster kills two vampires and a hunter and leaves them for dead. Unless he didn't like the vampires in his or her territory." Sam was taking a stab at it, but like Dean and Jody, nobody knew what was going on yet. It was going to take a little more digging before the boys and Jody solved this mystery. This whodunit would not be one of those easy run-of-the-mill cases where they blow into town, solve it save the girl, possibly have relations with the girl and leave within a day or two to move onto the next monster of the week. 

"Well, I say we collect our thoughts and meet back at the motel, Jody?" 

Looking back and forth to Sam and Dean, as much as she wanted to continue, she was no use to anyone if she collapsed on her feet. She felt a bit of slight guilt having called them in and now wanted to go home and sleep, but she would either collapse at the motel or on the way to her home if she didn't rejuvenate her body. 

"Yeah, first I'm going to get some sleep, boys. I'll meet you guys in a few." Jody turned away and slowly walking up the embankment. 

Sam and Dean watched for a few seconds as she made her way up, and then they brought their attention back to the bodies. "So, what do we do?" Sam asked. 

"Head back to the motel, as you said. See if we can't find anything else, maybe something similar has happened in another place. Call anyone we know." 

Both brothers agreed silently and made their way as well up the steep hill. They never saw the two eyes watching them from a distance. 

(Motel)

Sam was on the computer trying to find any local news or national news to see if any similarities of their case. Dean was on the phone talking to Garth. "Yeah, no, so you haven't heard from her? Yeah, will be on the lookout. Let us know if you hear anything similar. Thanks, Garth." Hanging up his cellphone and threw it onto the bed. 

"What did Garth have to say?" Sam, never looking up from the computer. 

"I guess a hunter named Paisley called Garth and inquired about a vampire nest in Texas. She said she would call him back but never did. That was over two months ago. I guess he went down there tried to find any trace of her, but it's like she vanished. You find anything?" 

"Well, I did find something interesting." Sam brought up the webpage as Dean came to stand behind his younger brother. "About a year and a half ago, a few bodies were found in Tennessee. Same injuries. Broken fingers, broken ribs, face contusions. The bodies were dumped very similar to the ones we saw today. One of them was a hunter we both knew, remember Lucas Brown? Well, he was the first to be found, and then about six other bodies were found near or closed to where he was dumped the same M.O. Various broken bones in the hands, ribs. Ugly contusions to the face had a broken jaw and nose. According to the autopsy report, it looked like Lucas had been in a fight for the past year with how many bones that had healed improperly and reset…" 

Sam's words seem to disappear as Dean found himself caught in a memory that was so vivid, he slowly sank into it.'

Dean was no longer in the hotel but in the woods of Purgatory. He could hear the sound of the discarded twigs on the ground, snapping underneath his weight as he continued to sprint for his life. Dean could not remember the last time his body got a break. Yet, the minute he stopped is when they would attack. The monsters were searching for him. 

They were calling out to him. It did not take long for those in Purgatory to know a Winchester was there. So no, there was no stopping. If he did, they would know, and they would pick up on his scent with ease. Dean had to keep moving, had to be ready for anything or anyone. He was all alone in a place full of monsters. 

At first, he called out to Castiel after the angel had suddenly disappeared on him. He tried praying. Stupidly he screamed his name at one point. That was a good lesson learned not to give your position away. Yet Dean was beyond desperate to get the angel back at his side. It was better to have someone watch your back than to have nothing. He was truly alone. Running out of steam, Dean finally stopped and put his back against a tree. He glanced a few times behind him and all around his perimeter to see if he spotted anything tracking him, but he didn't see or hear anything. 

He could feel his whole body was perspiring with sweat. Maybe he could sit down for just a second. 

Sitting down, he closed his eyes until he heard a twig snapping in the distance. He was always on alert, ready to act, but now he was actively looking. There were no animals here. Just creatures from people's worst nightmares and everything they had hunted since being in the business. Another twig snapped, only this time much closer, and it was behind him. Standing up slowly to try and not make a sound, he tried to ease around the tree without fully exposing himself. He didn't see anything or anyone. His eyes were searching out the monster that had found him. What Dean didn't expect was something to come charging at him from the front. He turned around and saw the vampire coming at him at a full force run. Dean instinctively rolled to the right to try and get clear and not allow it to close the distance until he got back up on his feet. However, he was too slow, and the vampire was already on top of him. The vampire was using his body mass against Dean to keep him on the ground as Dean continued to buck and try and get him off of him. 

"I heard Dean Winchester was here, but I had to come and see for myself. Glad I did. I can't tell you how much I'm going to enjoy this." The vampire began to lean in, hearing the roaring of Dean's blood in his ears. 

Dean's hands were scrambling, scrapping to find something to use, and his hand came down on a rock. "Me too," Dean growled as the vampire never saw the rock that hit him in the right temple knocking the vampire off of him. Dean wasted no time to take the stone that was sharp enough and start smashing it hard against the vampire's throat. A few strong blows and blood started spraying Dean in the face, and all over his hands, he continued to bludgeon as hard as he could. Dean tried to hit harder and faster with every stroke down, trying to decapitate the vampire that had tried to kill him. He had almost gone through the vampire's neck with the rock when something slammed into him hard. Dean could feel his body tumbling as whoever tackled him took him down a considerable steep slope, his body slamming into rocks and anything else, not stopping his momentum as he continued to roll. He came to a halt at the bottom of the foothill and, for what felt like a scary eternity of not being able to breathe, was only a few seconds. Using an arm to cover the unprotected part of his body that was hurting, he tried to scramble back up and found that he had wrenched his knee in the process as well. He was halfway up when the other vampire came charging at him. 

Sam realized his brother wasn't talking. He turned and looked to see that Dean's eyes were unfocused and staring off into the distance. Sam snapped his fingers and said his brother's name. Nothing, not even a flicker of Dean's eyes showed he was even paying Sam any attention. Sam said Dean's name but more forcefully, and that seemed to work as Dean came out of whatever place or memory that he had stored in the dark recess of his mind. 

"You okay, you with me?"

"Yeah…what?" Dean looked confused as nothing was out of the ordinary. 

It took Dean a few seconds to realize what had happened. For him, the memory was forever, but in reality, it came out in seconds in fast snaps of thoughts and sounds and feelings. Shaking his head Dean went to the refrigerator and grabbed a beer. He took a long swig of his drink and then realized Sam was still staring at him. He tried not to roll his eyes. 

"I'm fine…stop looking at me like that." 

"Was it Purgatory?" Sam knew his brother had nightmares about that place. The things they did, the things they saw, Sam and Dean were lucky they only had a mild case of PTSD at times. Then again, maybe they had it pretty bad, and they just thought it was normal. 

"We are not going to go there, Sammy, so just drop it." 

"Why do you do this…I'm the only one you can probably talk to about this. First, it's about Bobby that you don't want to talk about, now I catch you…whatever that was," waving his hand, "talk to me, man." 

"What are you gonna be my therapist all of a sudden, God you are worse than a woman right now." 

Sam looked like he was about to say something, but a soft knock on the door interrupted them both. They both stared each other down, seeing who would break. When neither still got up, and another knock on the door came, Sam finally relented, standing up and walking towards the door. He looked through the peephole and immediately opened the door. 

"I brought beer." Jody smiled as she held it up like a proud mother. Yet as Sam allowed her to enter, she could feel the tension in the air. She looked at both of them and wondered maybe if she should leave the two boys to either hug it out or let them beat each other up. Whatever got them both to stop acting like an old married couple, "Sooooo," trying to change the energy in the room, "you find anything?" 

Sam going back to the computer and sitting in front of it, "yeah, actually we did." 

"You know what, I think I'm going to go out for a drive." 

Sam turned around and gave Dean a look in disbelief. "Now, really? When Jody just got here." 

"Yeah, Dad didn't know I needed your permission." Dean, not waiting for Sam to come back with a retort, he grabbed his wallet, his jacket, and keys and slammed the door on his way out. Sam and Jody could hear the Impala firing up and the very distinct sound of the engine as it roared away into the dead of night. 

Jody Mills glanced over to Sam Winchester, trying to understand what had happened, but Sam had a look of utter disbelief, and he turned and looked at the computer as though he himself wasn't sure where to start at Dean's actions.

(Impala)

Dean couldn't figure out for the life of him why he was acting the way he was towards Sammy or Jody. Neither one needed his behavior or attitude, yet for whatever reason, something was driving his anger. He could not stop with his attitude, and his wrath was just all over the place. 

He could probably pinpoint it to a few things fueling this fire that was pent up inside him. Dean had really or rarely talked about Purgatory to anyone. He has spoken a little to Sam about it, but he kept it to himself for the most part. The only other friend he had to talk to about it was Bennie. Not to mention the massive factor of Castiel and what had transpired. That was a painful memory; Dean still did not want to face or come to terms with it. The only thing Dean could relate it to or even try to make Sam understand was, it was like being a combat veteran or what he could only assume was similar.

You lose a battle buddy over there downrange, come home, and now everywhere you turn, you are faced with the memories of that person. You have your good days, and then you have your bad days. Like those who deployed with you, they are the only ones that truly understand the hell and experience you faced. Everyone can only imagine what you are explaining to them, but it just feels a sad case of sympathy as they will never understand it. They can only go off of the news and movies. Yet, nothing really can put into words or how the anger boils over because that's all you have to keep you on your feet, to keep you going when you feel nothing else inside. The death and the pain and the suffering, your brain will do great things to protect oneself. In the end, that's exactly what Dean has learned to do in how to cope with the past. All that suppressing and anger had to go somewhere, so it came out in ways Dean didn't want it to. Taking it out on his baby brother and falling into memories without realizing he was and not controlling it. 

Dean continued to drive as thoughts came out in waves. As he drove aimlessly with no direction in mind, he suddenly found himself in a very familiar driveway—the elephant in the room. The one Sam had tried countless times to talk about, and the one thing Dean did everything to avoid. For a part of Dean felt, if he ignored the situation, pushed everything down once again, then he could imagine that Bobby Singer was alive and well. 

Putting the vehicle in park, he sat there staring out what used to be Bobby Singer's house. Yet all that stood there now was ruins of burnt wood and the aftermath of destruction. He remembered that day like it was yesterday when Sam and himself pulled into the drive seeing the wood still smoldering from the fire that had set the place ablaze. The fear crept in both their hearts as they realized their surrogate father might not have survived the utter destruction. The Leviathan showing up, turning everything upside down and making them imagine the worst-case scenario. 

Yet with everything, Bobby would go on to live that day. But only a few months later, their worst fear would come to pass. Bobby Singer would be shot and killed by Richard Roman or Dick to most. It just never seemed fair the whole thing in how it played out. Dean opened the car door and slowly began to walk the grounds, reminiscing. He breathed in, looking at the house. For the most part, the house had fallen in from the harsh winter; now, only one wall stood. 

The memories that flowed through Dean, from the first time Sam and Dean met Bobby when their Dad would drop them off so John could go on a hunt alone without worrying about the boys, to Bobby opening the door when he came back from hell. Bobby damn near sent him back to hell, for Bobby was not convinced it was really him. 

He started to feel the tears beginning to try and make their way to the forefront, which he angrily blinked away, swallowing the ugly pit of emotion rising to his core. He looked around and up to the sky, "Bobby….we….I....God, I miss you, man." 

(Motel)

Jody and Sam had been going over what Sam had discovered. It seemed the more they uncovered, the more they would find. Nobody put it together because of how separate the incidents were. Not to mention Dean and Sam were out of the game for a year, with Dean being in Purgatory and Sam trying to get out of the business. Now Sam would give anything to get that year back and do it entirely differently. Granted, that means he wouldn't have been able to find Amelia, but he should have stayed in the game and at least done a better job protecting Kevin. Both brothers had a lot of recent baggage, and it wasn't going to go away anytime soon. 

"So you think all these are connected?" Jody asked. Sam responded. 

"Has to be. There no other explanation for some of these hunters' recent disappearances. It's like some of them just disappeared off the face of this earth." 

Jody walked over, grabbed a beer, opened one, took a swig, and sat down on the bed. "So, besides this whole new fun case, what's going on with you two?" 

Sam knew it was only a matter of time before Jody couldn't take it anymore, and the mother in her would want to try and fix whatever was going on between the two brothers. He shut his laptop, walked over and grabbed a beer himself, and sat on the other bed. Looking at his beer, he tried to find the words that naturally would come easy to him. 

"I think honestly, Jody too much. I thought he was fine, and I was fine, but it's like the minute we took this case, it's like everything he has bottled up over the last year just coming out in the most Dean way possible." 

Jody nodded in understanding. "Yeah, not going to lie, I hesitated to call you two. I know you guys haven't been up here since, you know, since Bobby. I didn't want to dredge up all memories, and just I know you two are the best." 

Sam gave a soft smile to that and took another drink of his beer. "Yeah, I mean, it was only a matter of time we would have to come back this way. Just, neither he nor I have discussed the events that lead to Dean's disappearing and then me." 

"Yeah, I heard about that; you got out of the game for a while. But apparently, it didn't stick." 

Sam studied the beer in his hand. His thoughts were going to Amelia. Right before he left and how happy he was. That he could find happiness outside of the dark world, they currently lived in. Yet, deep down, he felt guilty. For not going and searching for his brother. For allowing his brother to stay in Purgatory and be hunted every single day for a year. He had failed him on so many levels; how in the hell would he ever get Dean to forgive him, let alone himself? 

"Yeah, I guess once a hunter, always a hunter." 

Jody nodded her head in agreement. "I can drink to that." Taking another drink of her beer. Once the world of monsters became real to Jody Mills, she knew she could never go back to a "normal life." It would be beyond nieve for her to do so, not when she knew she could help those in need. 

"Well, I purpose a toast, to hunter baggage." 

Sam gave a soft smile and clinked his beer glass against hers, "to hunter baggage." Both taking a drink of their beer after the toast. Both were getting lost in their own thoughts. 

(Bar)

Dean had left the salvage yard that he once called home and headed to the closest bar he could find. He knew after the way he had been feeling at Bobby's place, and too much crap was starting to bubble up, he was not ready to come back to the motel. No, he would have to drown this out with some good old fashion booze and maybe a little hook-up if he was lucky, but honestly, he just wanted to drink this entire day and night away. 

The place was a dive, but they make the best places for doing precisely what Dean intended, that was to get piss ass drunk. One could sit there with the local drunk and get some of the best stories, either fabricated or maybe real, it didn't matter honestly, but it kept his thoughts off what was going on deep down inside his mind. 

For the most part, Dean Winchester was having a nice night after what he had to deal with all day. He was starting to feel the pull of the siren of alcohol in his body, and he was beginning to drown out the noise within his mind. That is until somebody had to open their mouth and speak to him. 

"Hey, don't I know you?" 

Dean drunkenly looked up from the various shot glasses in front of him and his one drink he had been going back to once he was done with his shot. He tried to place the face but found he didn't recognize the fool trying to speak to him. 

"Yeah, you one of those weeidro kidrs that hang aroudn that drunk guy what was his name….timmy, jimmy....God," the man's own words were slurring as he tried to remember. 

Dean could feel the anger hitting from head to toe an instant. "If you are talknig about my friend bobuby singer, yodu beswt either apologzei or." Dean never finished his sentence because he was plastered to think of something good, but he felt his threat was clear enough, even for being intoxicated. 

"Yeah, you ain't going to do shit, boy. ti hleard hbe like little boys, alwasy bringing mhte to his house….

Those were the last words that man spoke that night. The man's head made a very distinct sound as it smacked against the counter's wooden edge. The man slumped down onto the ground, completely unconscious. 

Whipping around quickly, knocking over his barstool in the process to see if anyone else wanted to take a shot with him. He threw his hands out, "anyone else want to talk Bobby Singer." Words were coming out a little slurred. He may have had more than he meant to that night because the world was spinning a little bit on its axis now. 

"Come on, buddy, time for you to leave." A bartender coming around and cautiously walking up to Dean but making sure not to pose as a threat to Dean. ] He was able to look around and see that most people were staring at him with wide eyes as though he'd go feral on them or not even giving him the time of day. Nodding his head and admitting defeat, he threw a tip on the bar, finished his shot and drink quickly, and then left the bar. 

Stumbling out to his vehicle, he dug into his pockets for his keys. Dean was finding it harder to focus on what he was doing as he looked up to see where he had parked the Impala. There was no way he was going to be able to drive back to the motel. Digging in his jacket, Dean pulled his phone out and slowly stumbled. Trying to stay in one spot, but it was like he was on a ship, and he couldn't stop his swaying at the moment. Glancing up, he saw the classic muscle car and began walking up to it while also concentrating on finding his contacts and getting Sam on the phone took motor skills he was not capable of doing at the moment. Just as Dean neared his vehicle, an object with enough force slammed into the back of his head, knocking Dean Winchester unconscious before he even hit the cold earth. His body losing all motor functions, tilted forward, hitting the Chevy Impala, and then sliding down the vehicle onto his side. On the other end of the phone, Sam could be heard yelling his brother's name, only Dean was incapable of answering back. 

TBC…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Notes: I'm going, to be honest. I'm trying to stay motivated to write this without much feedback. It's nice to hear from those that are reading this. I'm starting to think this story is complete shit lol guess the monster in my head tells me otherwise. I'm going to try and keep going regardless and write this for myself. We will see how that goes. Hate it, love it...want more? Love to hear from, yeah!


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